


Anything Goes

by Usetheladiesroom



Category: Legion (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, David is Confused and Needs a Hug, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Farouk is a Very Persuasive Asshole, I'm horrible, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Infidelity, M/M, Mind Sex, Older Man/Younger Man, Please Excommunicate Me From The Fandom, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Sex for Favors, this is horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usetheladiesroom/pseuds/Usetheladiesroom
Summary: "You're not getting back inside my body, if that's what you're aft-""There are other means of doing such, my dear," Farouk murmurs softly, and David is suddenly all too aware of how close the other mutant truly is as the man's excruciatingly smooth voice practically caresses his ears from behind. He can't believe what Farouk is insinuating; he refuses to. The very idea of it is just absurd.AU in which the meeting between David and the Shadow King in Chapter 11 (S2E3) goes awry when David tries to get Farouk to elaborate more on the subject of his father.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I dedicate this story to Hexiva, since we've had many conversations over this particular ship, and they have just been such a great inspiration and i'm sorry I couldn't get this out to you sooner! I hope it was worth the wait tho :D )
> 
> Alright, so this damn thing has been stuck in my drafts ever since I saw the promo for Chapter 11 way back when it first aired, and now I think it's just about finished! I know I promised some peeps that I was going to post this much sooner but every time I thought I had a finished product I always found something new that just irked me to my very core and I had to go ahead and redo it. Also, these past few months have been rather hectic for me, so that's another factor as to why i've kept delaying this fic as well. 
> 
> Anyways, instead of posting this fic as a giant wall of text, i'm gonna be experimental and divide it into three chapters instead! (it's already divided into three sections in the draft, so, why not?) The second chapter's just about finalized, while the third still needs an ending, so if things go well, this story will probably be a complete fic by the end of the week and I can finally catch up on everyone elses's fics! c: (i'm just really glad I waited until after the season had ended before I posted this, because jfc so much happened lol)
> 
> With that being said, I hope you guys will be able to enjoy this!! I may not be the best at writing, but in this fandom, you either write what you want, or you wait ten million years hoping and praying that someone else will come along and have the same exact ideas that you do! XD 
> 
> But seriously, please do heed the tags; i'm even still debating on whether or not I should put a warning on this, as well as extra tags, because this is the Shadow King we're talking about, and although his creepiness is rather subtle in the first two chapters (at least, in comparison to the third), I kinda sorta went all out with it in the third chapter; so I guess that's something i'm going to have to figure out for myself by the time I post that one.

The sun bears down on David with its rays of light as they shower down from above, the heat that it emanates contrasting with the cool glistening water of the pool below, crystalline, and blue - _so very blue_. The water itself is clearly inviting, and David wants more than anything to jump in and drench himself to combat the heat - but he won't. Seeing that this was all merely just an elaborate illusion, it was apparent that David had more pressing matters to tend to rather than simply enjoying the splendor of the Shadow King's literal mind palace and the many intricacies of the surrounding area born from the man's eclectic tastes and memory.   
  
The meeting with his former tapeworm was supposed to be simple; straight and to the point. David was only supposed to get in and then come back out with the information that he had originally sought out to get pertaining to the monk; he wasn't supposed to be making small talk with the man, nor was he supposed to be drinking presumably expensive rum out of an ornate glass. However, when the topic of his father was brought into the light once more, David decided that the drink couldn't possibly hurt and proceeded to down it as Farouk tried in earnest to get him to sympathize with his supposed plight by promptly picking apart the words that David had said beforehand to use against him.  
  
The way the older mutant spoke today was surprisingly restrained; rid of the many seamless shifts into the numerous amount of languages that he had utilized during their first encounter on the astral plane. Save for the occasional slippage into French, and what he can only assume is the man's native tongue, David concludes that Farouk had merely been showing off the first time around for the sake of being dramatic - to which David would be lying if he had said that it didn't work to its desired effect.  
  
But as of right now, Farouk's attempts at swaying him come across as petulant, the sharply dressed leech of a man fueled more by his own ego than by the unwanted connection that they both shared, and if he were to just tap into that, Farouk would see for himself that nothing was going to change the fact that all that David felt towards him was a raging case of resentment and nothing more.  
  
However, the insight that the man was currently giving him in regards to his biological father was something else entirely. The older mutant spoke of him with outright hatred brimming in the tone of his voice, his rage carefully suppressed by the clench of his fingers tightly enclosed around his glass. There's an honesty to his words, and that was something that not even David could ignore as he continued to listen intently to Farouk's tangent on the subject at hand. But in the end, it wasn't enough to completely sway him, as David then proceeded to slam his given cup none too gently back onto the poolside bar before meeting Farouk's gaze with utter disdain.  
  
"You fed off me when I was a baby," David snapped, baring his teeth, "And i'm supposed to feel, what, sorry for you?"  
  
"Is it such a terrible thing, to feel sorrow for your enemy?" Farouk countered, and David could almost see a semblance of hurt in his expression, indignation alight in the parasite's voice; but seeing as Farouk was well, _Farouk,_ he could only chalk it up to the other man expressing his own failure at trying to lure David to his side as he then finished the rest of his sentence in a huff, "Oh, for what is he, a brother with another name?"  
  
"We're not brothers."  
  
Farouk sighs, a dismissive smile etched onto the landscape of his weary face as he took another sip from his drink. "You're still young," the older mutant remarks with a patronizing shake of his head, "You think justice is a glass jar; you fill it with your hurt, your hate. Don't you think I have my own jar? I'm a refugee of your own father's making - driven from my home in exile. Do you know the meaning of that word? What it exactly means to be a refugee?" The last question is said with absolute contempt as Farouk all but spits out the final word like it's poison in his mouth, his gaze scrutinizing David from head to toe, eyes raking in the state of his clothes to the pallor of his skin as he then comes to his own conclusion and scoffs, "Of course you don't.  
  
Anxiously swallowing and pursing his lips, David decides what he should say next. He could easily dismiss Farouk's claims, call out the blatant hypocrisy in his words, and go on from there with a change of subject, but doing so would only close him off from the very knowledge that he lacked concerning his father until further notice considering how outraged Farouk had become at the blink of an eye, and the truth of the matter was that every word that spilled from Farouk's mouth; every accusation, every half truth, only drove David to want to know more. And so, without taking more time to consider an alternative, David chose the latter.  
  
"Then," he began, stepping forward with a placating wave of his hand, "Tell me more. Convince me."  
  
Farouk seemed to perk up at that, his frown gone in an instant and replaced with a genuinely amused smile, tongue peeking out to slowly trail against his lips in renewed interest, "And what if you hear something that you don't like?"  
  
David snickers, an ugly broken sound full of snark and bite, "I've already made it this far with you not only twisting the image I had of my dad, but also the image I had of my biological father - telling me how much of a goddamn bastard he apparently was, and just how condescending he was to both you and your culture," he takes a second to let out an exasperated breath, before continuing with a shrug, "So, what more could hurt?"  
  
Instantaneously, however, David knew at that moment that those were the wrong choice of words as the older mutant's body language changed almost immediately as soon as his little spiel had left the safety of his mouth - but even he knew deep down inside that it was an outcome that not even he could've stopped from happening since it was all just a matter of time before it came out altogether. Farouk cocks his head to the side then, fixing David a look of disappointment that made even him shrink just a little; but he refused to show it, unwilling to let his former parasite have the satisfaction of seeing him cower.  
  
"You just want me to give you more information regarding your father, don't you?" Farouk accuses, voice firm and even, the unusually stiff tone bringing David back to when he was a child whenever it had been his dad's turn to scold him, and for one second, David thinks that maybe Farouk was responsible for his dad's more  _harsh_  moments with him - but he dismisses the thought entirely because that was certainly not something he needed to be thinking about at this particular point in time; there was always later after all, in the safety of his room where he could be left alone to ponder and truly be vulnerable with himself without having to suppress the emotions that he so needed to express.  
  
"Yes," David admits after sucking in a breath, "To put it bluntly, yes."  
  
Rolling his shoulders with a heavy sigh, Farouk disappears in a flash, only for David to find him a second later laid out on one of the lawn chairs located on the other side of the pool. His sunglasses are back on, dark octagon-shaped lenses obscuring the shape of Farouk's eyes from view, and David can't help but feel that he had just ended the very line of familiarity that the older mutant had almost desperately tried to set up between them. He had essentially shut him down; and rightfully so, for that matter, but David couldn't help but feel a dull pang of regret nevertheless as the thought of the choice that he had made, and whether it was right or wrong to have done so in the first place, weighed on him, gnawing away at his brain like an unsuspecting rat chewing on a rancid piece of cheese.  
  
The burgeoning dread that he feels inside only broadens after a minute passes with neither one of them uttering a single word, leaving the less experienced telepath to awkwardly shift on his feet until he realizes that Farouk is expecting him to lead their conversation, for him to formally ask what he wants so much to ask. It should annoy him, that Farouk still wants to take the time to tease and prod at him, and it does, oh it does, but David finds that he doesn't care quite enough to voice his displeasure, especially now since he's so close to getting what he wants.  
  
"So are you going to tell me what I want to know, or not?"  
  
Farouk laughs, the rim of his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly to reveal the mirth in his eyes. "Demanding, are we? You didn't even say please."  
  
David hesitates, averting the older mutant's unwavering gaze for a brief second only to look back to see that Farouk has already pushed his glasses back into position, waiting for him to make his move through a shroud of black.  
  
"Alright, fine," David groans, rolling his eyes, "Please."  
  
Farouk, however, tuts, shaking his head once more in disapproval, "Please, what?"  
  
"What do you mean _'please, what?'_ You heard me just fine."  
  
"Yes, but it seems that you have lost your place - and your manners, for that matter. Therefore, I shall refuse to acknowledge your request until you learn to show me some respect." With Farouk looking up at him expectantly, David huffs, emitting a sigh of exasperation, as he then draws the shape of his mouth into a firm line of utter resignation.   
  
"Please would you kindly tell me some things that i'd like to know about my father," he all but breathes out, keeping the flippant nature of his tone at bay as he serves up a not so convincing smile to appease  _his_ _majesty_ , the king. That last crack, which had seemed to catch and echo within his mind due to how much effort he had used trying to contain adding _'your majesty,'_ mockingly to the end of his actual question, forces David to then subdue the chuckle threatening to bubble its way from his throat by briefly sucking in his lips and swallowing the sound down until no trace of it is left. It's just a good thing Farouk is so wrapped up in himself that he doesn't seem to notice, or maybe, perhaps, he just doesn't care, as he continues to ramble on.  
  
"There it is," Farouk beams, pointing a raised finger excitedly at him. He moves to sit up, smile as wide as can be, and David can't help but think of Lenny when he sees it, teeth gleaming shiny and white out of easily found amusement, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? I knew you could do it."  
  
"So, is that a yes?" David naively asks, hopeful as ever.  
  
The older mutant tilts his head, leering up at him whilst absentmindedly twiddling his fingers from where they are folded against his stomach, and David, in that moment, is reminded of a cat that's just about ready to pounce, "Not exactly."  
  
David frowns then, a brow raised in concern, "What do you mean?"  
  
"What I mean," Farouk reiterates, "Is that if I were to simply give you what you want, then where would be the fun in that? No, I have a better idea. I will tell you a few things about your father, but in exchange you have to give me something in return."  
  
"No."  
  
There's a beat. "You didn't even hear what I had to say."  
  
"I don't have to," David grimaces, "Knowing you, it's probably going to involve a lot of people either getting hurt or killed, and getting some measly answers from you about my absentee father isn't worth any of that. Not by a long shot."  
  
The older mutant purses his lips, huffing in annoyance, "That isn't what I want though."  
  
"Okay, fine," David snaps, not even bothering to conceal his irritation this time around at the parasite's continued insistence on the subject, "Then what does the _oh so mighty and powerful king_ want this time, hm?"  
  
Farouk's expression darkens at that, and David thinks that perhaps he might have pushed it a bit too far when it came to the amount of sarcasm that he had carelessly aimed at the other man, but then Farouk smiles, and David is immediately perturbed by its presence as he then utters a single word in response, "You."  
  
At first David doesn't know what to say to the answer that is given, but then he scowls, watching with contempt as the parasite gets up from the very chair that he had been occupying as he then proceeds to stroll towards him, glass in hand, "You're not getting back inside my body, if that's what you're aft-"  
  
"There are other means of doing such, my dear," Farouk murmurs softly, and David is suddenly all too aware of how close the other mutant truly is as the man's excruciatingly smooth voice practically caresses his ears from behind. He can't believe what Farouk is insinuating; he refuses to. The very idea of it is just absurd.  
  
"You-You can't be serious," David stutters, throat becoming increasingly dry when he feels a hand rest itself on his arm, a sickening warmth seeping through the fabric of his jacket.  
  
"On the contrary, my dear," Farouk breathlessly croons, "I am being very serious."  
  
Swallowing what he can, David shakily lets out a breath of his own before chancing a glance at Farouk, warily meeting his hooded gaze with both bewilderment and a pinch of skepticism added into the already unsavory mix.  
  
"Then, why me?" David asks, voice wavering, "You said it yourself, you prefer women - and I am clearly not a woman! " He emphasizes this by gesturing at his chest with his hands posed in an exaggerated manner, like the clear lack of breasts there would suddenly deter Farouk's interest; but it doesn't.  
  
"Yes, what I say is true to a certain extent, but that is the keyword, now isn't it? _Prefer_ ; to like something more than another, but in the end there is still a choice that can be made when it comes to the matter at hand, and I could honestly care less about this silly concept that we call gender as long as I get the satisfaction of getting what I want in the end. And what I want at this very moment-" Farouk trails off with a sly smirk, jabbing his finger into David's wilting chest for emphasis, "-is you."  
  
"But - _why me_?" David winces, forcing himself to repeat the question all while completely disregarding the utterly nauseating feeling currently spreading in his gut. He's not stupid, he knows exactly why; he's seen the way that Farouk looks at him, not even trying to hide his attraction towards him as he continuously regards him with the same lascivious gaze like the goddamn pervert that he is, and when he takes into account all the times that the parasite had flirted with him under the guise of Lenny, the evidence is undeniable. Farouk wants him, that's clear enough; if not as a host, than as some kind of demented fuck toy that he can display his own brand of superiority over, and the very thought of letting him mistreat him in that way, let alone letting the man fuck him in general, makes him sick to his stomach, and suddenly, David wants more than anything to be able to vomit and spill his guts onto the bastard's shiny shoes - anything if it would discourage Farouk from taking another step forward.  
  
But it never comes to pass, and Farouk, in its stead, chuckles, heartily and with gusto, as he then shifts to the side to cup David's cheek, gently brushing his thumb against his boy's flushed skin, "You've simply presented the opportunity, my dear. It has been ages since i've delved into the pleasures of the flesh, and now the time has come for me to be rewarded for my prolonged abstinence." Farouk then lets his gaze simply wander, regarding the blue of David's eyes and how they sparkle against the light, as well as the rosy complexion of his lips, drawn into a grimace out of the obvious agitation that his beloved former host feels from just his touch alone which causes the man to pause momentarily before continuing in a soft, and arguably, considerate tone, "Plus, it also helps that you've grown to be quite _attrayant_ over the years; so very attractive."

He praises him, Farouk; choosing his words carefully to best suit his needs, although it does seem that the man truly is proud of this particular feat as if he were the one that was in charge of molding David's physical appearance out of his own pot of clay to begin with. Nevertheless, the parasite's words do nothing to ease David's nerves; they in fact do the exact opposite as he then lets out a nervous laugh in the face of his own discomfort.  
  
"Not that i'm accepting-" David starts, only to resort to wildly gesticulating with the use of his hands when he fails to find the right words to describe their current situation, ultimately blurting out, "-whatever this is! But you're saying it like we'll actually be doing it in person when you know in all actuality that that isn't even the case."   
  
"Who says?" Farouk counters with a raise of his brow, "It would be no different than what you and your girlfriend get up to in your beloved _white room_ , and since you'll be able to remember it outside of this very plane of existence, it will be real to you, therefore it will be as real as real gets."  
  
Deeming the matter settled, Farouk lets out a contented sigh, raising his free hand to grasp David's other cheek as he fondly holds his boy's clammy face within his grasp in an almost affectionate manner; that is, until he begins paying close attention to David's hair and runs a few fingers through the choppy, uneven strands disapprovingly, "For as beautiful as you are, my dear, I must say that I am still not a fan of how you have decided to go about styling your hair. It's very unflattering compared to how your hair had looked prior to all this nonsense - so please, tell me again why you had it cut?"  
  
David squints, brows furrowed in genuine confusion until realization dawns on him and he responds in unadulterated disgust, "You mean the haircut that I had before I tried to kill myself?"  
  
Farouk nods, and David has the sneaking suspicion that the bastard is trying to suppress a smirk at the very admission, "That's the one. So, why did you have it cut? I seem to have forgotten." _He didn't._  
  
"It - it wasn't my idea," David sputters, fists clenching and unclenching from the mere memory, "The people at Clockworks, they thought that it would be beneficial for me if I - Never mind that! I haven't even agreed to what you're proposing, so - hands off!" Ripping himself away from Farouk's hold, David takes a few steps back, creating a much needed space between the two of them as he all but glares at Farouk; but the man merely shrugs it off, glancing down at his own fingers that still tingled from simply having been able to touch his previous host before turning his attention back onto David himself, amusement evident in the curve of his lips.  
  
"What's exactly keeping you from making the decision?" Farouk inquires beseechingly, cocking his head to the side even though the mundanity of his own question irritates him with its mere simplicity, "You get what you want, and I get what I want. It's as simple as that, my man."   
  
"Yeah, easy for you to say," David huffs, folding his arms tightly against his chest, "But you know very well that i'm with Syd - and we're very much in love, might I remind you!"  
  
Farouk's mouth twitches at the very mention of his girlfriend, and David can only assume that the parasite is still very much annoyed by their coupling, even after all this time. "Then don't tell her," the parasite states rather bluntly, "More secrets for us to cherish." _But that's exactly what the problem is_ , David thinks to himself; _the secrets._  
  
"I just - I just can't," David stammers, bottom lip trembling at the very thought of even hurting Syd in that way; she was the love of his life for fuck's sake, and to go against her would only end up hurting them both in the long run, and he didn't want that; he didn't want to jeopardize the only good thing that he's got going for him even more than he has already. All that David wants to do now is leave; screw Farouk and his information, they could all get along just fine without his help. Bringing his father back up into their conversation had been a mistake, a brief lapse in judgement, but even David knew that if he were to just end that particular thread now, Farouk might not give up his insight on the _monk_ as freely as he would have at the very start of this venture, knowing full well that David would do anything in his power to get his hands on it now that they were at a standstill. After all, Farouk was the final piece of the puzzle at the end of the day, the code that they needed to crack in order to solve the problems pertaining to the grand scheme of things, and without anything to go by when it came to the _monk_ , they wouldn't be able to find Farouk's body, and Farouk knew this; and the bastard was more than willing to exploit it even if it meant having to hold off on getting what he wants the most for just a little while longer.  
  
Speaking of the devil himself, either Farouk had been completely attuned to his indecision, or he had somehow been unconsciously projecting his own thoughts, because soon enough the man was crossing the threshold between them, tentatively closing in on him with each and every step until he was within arm's reach, placing a steady hand on David's shoulder and promptly bringing him back to the present with a sudden jolt.  
  
"You can, and you will," Farouk practically whispers, maintaining eye contact with David as he tries his damnedest to coax a favorable answer out of the boy with the soothing, almost hypnotic, droll of his voice, "That is, if you want to get a better sense of who exactly your father was. I'll even tell you what I know about this _monk_ of ours, and whatever else you'd like to hear, out of the goodness of my heart - all you have to do, David, my dear, is say _yes._ "  
  
_'I should be saying no,'_ David thinks, keeping his eyes locked on Farouk's as they all but stared each other down. Yes, shouldn't even be an option, let alone a choice in the matter, and yet he has to consider it because what other choice is there? He lets the thought roll around in his mind for a minute, to give himself time to come up with another option, but it never comes to pass; and so, with a sigh, David reluctantly makes his decision.  
  
"...Fine," David spits out, "My answer is yes, but under one condition."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"Nobody hears a word about this. Not my friends, not the people at Division 3, and most certainly not Syd; _absolutely no one_." It was bad enough that Division 3 was keeping such a close eye on him, but if word came out that he had let things get way too far with the Shadow King behind their backs, Fukiyama and the Vermillion would surely have his head. And as for Syd, he couldn't even stand to assume what she might have to say about the arrangement as a whole, and really, he had no right to do so either. Syd clearly deserves better than him, and yet somehow she loves him all the same.  But now - now he was going to do this to her, and it sinks him even deeper into the well of guilt that he has conjured up for himself as he then goes on to imagine Syd's reaction should he ever come clean to her, and proceeds to crumble up like the piece of fucking garbage that he is.   
  
Continuing to mull over the consequences of his actions, David would have become lost in thought had it not been for what Farouk had said next promptly snapping him out of it, activating his fight or flight response from within, "I am a man of my word."  
  
David whips his head up in disbelief, ready to disregard his own answer as quickly as it had came and leave at a moment's notice at the blatant lie that had just slithered out of Farouk's mouth, "Are you?" He retorts, "Than what the hell happened at Division 3 then? Those agents you murdered, you promised-"  
  
"I didn't promise anything. From what I remember, you only assumed that I did, but you must remember that the words 'I promise,' never left my mouth, so really, it was a bad choice of words on your part."  
  
David pauses, mouth agape in disbelief, but then acceptance rears its ugly head and he sighs; because the bastard is essentially right. Dealing with Farouk was clearly the definition of the phrase _'be careful what you wish for,'_ something he unfortunately knows all too well about; which means that he'll probably need to be more straight-forward with the parasite should they ever make any more deals in the future; which would obviously be never, but still.  
  
"Then, why should I believe you? You've lied to me-" David starts, but Farouk quickly interjects before he can continue.  
  
"Have I? Really, think about it. All i've done was feed ideas into your head. Nothing more."  
  
David sends him a look, clearly still unconvinced, and Farouk sighs like a child that's being made to apologize.  
  
"I promise," Farouk assures him, right hand raised like he's about to be sworn into court. "Now, shall we continue this elsewhere?"  
  
David hesitates and averts the parasite's lecherous gaze, thinking that he can still back out for one more second, but nevertheless agrees with a sigh of regret, "I suppose so."  
  
"Good," Farouk utters with absolute delight, extending his arm out for David to hold onto so that he can make an even bigger mockery of their communion and the concept of courtship as a whole; and David, rather begrudgingly, accepts it. But before they can take even a few steps together as one single unit, Farouk stops and turns his head to the side with a subdued grin, "You could still take a dip in the pool if you'd like."  
  
David blinks incredulously, before answering momentarily with a blunt, "I'd rather not." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, this fic was originally only supposed to be like a 5k PWP (if you could even call it that), but then all these ideas I had just kept on piling up, and seeing as this is probably gonna be my last Legion fic until season 3 comes out, I just let it grow and fester into this self-indulgent abomination.
> 
> But with that being said, this is a pretty short chapter, and most of this fic's girth will be in the next one!

Entering the building, the interior is extravagant beyond all belief. Influences of various different cultures from all over the world are prevalent in each and every room, from the furniture, to the walls, to even the very columns that hold the place up; everything to accommodate the Shadow King and his ridiculously pretentious lifestyle. It's both so claustrophobic and yet so open in a way that David can't help but reach his arm out to run his hand over the tastefully cluttered walls as well as the myriad of trinkets that just so happen to catch his eye atop the many mantels and tables that adorn each room; and Farouk allows it, happy enough to showcase his palace to a mere peasant like David and revel in his bout of curiosity.  
  
It doesn't take long for David to get antsy however, his anxiety making it hard to play whatever part Farouk would have him play, instead focusing too much on how the older mutant has him practically clinging onto him like a child as they continue to make their way through several corridors together whilst the sound of a needle dropping onto a gramophone continuously plays in the background, the ethereal music that it dissonantly emits playing forwards and backwards and backwards and forwards on a frantic loop.  
  
But the thing that truly sets David off is the staff; the butlers that he swears are there one minute only for them to vanish the next. Reality clearly has no bearings here, now that's for certain, but at the very least everything up until now had been somewhat grounded in realism; and so, for those well-dressed ghosts to go about silently serving Farouk tiny appetizers on silver platters every now and again at the man's every beck and call, they had simply broken the illusion. They were like the glitches in his memory that Ptonomy had brought to his attention back when he had first started out at Summerland, what with their immense absence and the way that they drove him simply mad trying to fill in the fuzzy gaps; it was very disorienting to say the least, and so what he needed at this very moment was a distraction, and what better way to distract himself than to resort to heckling his escort for answers since that was clearly why he was here in the first place.  
  
"Alright," David asserts, effectively breaking the silence, "Tell me something."  
  
However, the parasite decides to do the exact opposite much to his disdain. " _Ah ah_ ," Farouk tuts, playfully giving David's arm a little pat as penance, "I will tell you on my own terms."  
  
This takes David aback, but he soon recovers in favor of grumbling his displeasure underneath his breath, letting Farouk's deflection slide for the meantime; he'd hate to come off as eager anyhow, lest he risk boosting the man's inflated ego even more than he has already.   
  
It takes a bit to find a replacement distraction to calm his nerves - but, as fate would have it, David's thoughts end up falling back on Lenny once more; or what he had assumed was Lenny. When he had approached her, she had been shaken, downtrodden, her eyes drained of all life except for her morbid desire for death as she desperately clawed at his shirt, and it honestly hurt to see his old friend like that - in such pain, in such turmoil, so much so that he had to remind himself that for all he knew she could just be another one of Farouk's projections trying to mess with his head. And yet, David still felt pity for her. While the majority of his mind was pretty damn convinced that she wasn't the real Lenny, the remaining percentage wondered if she was coping, if she was roaming the halls like they currently are, or, if what she had said was true, and that Farouk has literally shoved her inside a drawer for safekeeping; perhaps he'll never know. But what David does know, now that he mentions it, is that he hasn't even caught a glimpse of Oliver and that fact alone is distressing in of itself - but it could also be that Farouk is simply giving him a break for the time being, letting the poor man have some use of his own body as they went about their business, which, he supposed, was better than any alternative that he could think up on the spot; and he surely hopes that it is so, considering all the shit that Oliver has had to go through prior to leaving the astral plane only to end up in the Shadow King's clutches, trapped with the very thing that his cube was designed to keep out.

Eventually, they stop right in front of a dining room, standing just below an open archway that gives the secluded area little to no privacy. It's sparse compared to the countless others that they had briefly passed through, a literal breath of fresh air from all the glorified indulgence as light settles into the room through a pair of arched windows revealing the outside from within, as well as an open doorway of the same nature leading into the courtyard's gardens without so much as a single flourish. A wooden picnic table is set up, lined with numerous dishes paired with complementary plates piled high with flatbread that fill the air with spice and heat, including a huge platter of something that he can't quite place to which he must have stared at too long trying to figure out what it was exactly because Farouk soon addresses it with a chuckle at his expense, "Couscous."  
  
"Ah," David mutters with a nod of his own accord, watching as Farouk then proceeds to unlatch his arm from his own as he then fully enters the room, picking up a wooden spoon to sample from the bowl to which the older mutant hums in delight.  
  
"You know," Farouk begins, clearing his throat, "This was to be my celebratory meal after I had defeated your father. But, as you already know, things did not turn out in my favor. I wasn't even able to take a single bite because of what your father did to me."  
  
David opens his mouth, likely to defend a man he's never even met no doubt, so Farouk intervenes and continues to speak, not allowing David to get a single word in the process.  
  
"Each time I've had this dish, it has always tasted different. I've sampled couscous from market stalls to palaces befit of royalty, prepared by people who each have their own take on it; recipes passed down from generation to generation. Hence, each and every time I take a bite from this particular bowl, it will never be the same. The taste will always differ, the flavor shifting from one version to the next thanks to my palate and the memories I have of eating this dish prior to me having been stranded here." Farouk then motions for him to come closer, and David reluctantly complies. Lowering the spoon into the bowl, the older mutant scoops up another spoonful and proceeds to blow on it before lifting it to David's lips for him to taste.  
  
David, rather begrudgingly, takes a bite, expecting it to taste like it smells as the grains and bits of meat roll against his tongue only to be disappointed when it tastes like nothing at all.   
  
"There is no taste, is there?" Farouk states rhetorically, the answer plain in the expression on David's face, but David nevertheless nods in agreement, "It's because you've never tasted this dish before, therefore my experience does not correlate with your own. You can only smell it because I am currently sharing the memory I have of it with you, and while I can give you a mere recollection of its default taste, i'd rather you try some on the outside once we're done here because my memory can only do so much and it clearly does not do the food justice." The request is meant to be just for kicks, but when David actually says okay much to his surprise, Farouk places the spoon back onto the table like it hadn't been used at all, blanketing it against a napkin that he finds there as all traces of use are rendered void, and simply takes a moment to contemplate before turning back to David with a fit of laughter that causes the younger telepath to take a step back.  
  
"What's so funny?" David asks, clearly unamused, as he cautiously approaches Farouk nonetheless.  
  
"Nothing," Farouk says after he collects himself, "It's just that for all my years, I could never get you to eat anything with even so much as a hint of spice in it. You always preferred your sweets." There's a tenderness to the smile that Farouk gives him then, a fondness that shouldn't even be there but is, and it bothers David immensely with its presence as he sucks in a breath.  
  
"Stop," David utters with as much exasperation that he can muster; his brows are scrunched tight together, eyes bearing a certain kind of coldness to them while the line of his mouth trembles slightly from some kind of unknown emotion that causes even Farouk to pause, almost as if it were out of concern and that just ticks David off even more.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"You're trying to get...familiar with me," David protests, crossing his arms irritably, "Stop it."  
  
The perpetual smile on Farouk's face proceeds to vanish then, replaced by a dour frown as his hand spreads uncomfortably against the table, "And why should I?" Farouk disputes, "I think i'm allowed this, considering I practically raised you."  
  
"You what?! Oh, now this is just fucking rich," David cackles disparagingly, refusing to believe the manipulative bullshit that Farouk was spewing.  
  
"It's true," the older mutant continues, positively glowering at David's dismissal, "Who was the one who made sure you slept? The one that made sure you ate on time?"  
  
"Oh, save it, my parents did most of the work; you just needed my body to grow up all big and strong, that's all. And besides, that's usually stuff that the brain is in charge of anyways so your so-called  _argument_  is invalid."  
  
"Then who kept you company when you were lonely, hm?" Farouk argues, "When you were younger and Amy left for school? When she went off with her friends? You had no one in the world except for me."  
  
David scoffs, "I had friends-" he tries to say, but the escalating agitation he feels inside begins to consume him as Farouk continues to egg him on.  
  
"But they all left in the end, didn't they? They deserted you." He says it nonchalantly, like they're talking about something casual like the fucking weather, and it's the amount of disconnect in his tone, the sheer audacity to sound almost bored in his delivery, that cements its place as the final straw.  
  
"That's because you made me sick!" David screams, eyes glistening with tears that threaten to trail down his cheeks. He had never thought that he would be able to tell Farouk that in person without any of the parasite's masks getting in the way, but now here they are, face to face in the Shadow King's domain, and he has never felt as justified as he does now in this exact moment. But shortly after, David's newfound animosity quickly fades into uncertainty when his voice involuntarily drops, and suddenly, he's unsure of himself when he quietly goes on to say, "But now i'm better." And Farouk, of course, senses the sudden change in his demeanor in an instant, curling his lips into an ugly sneer.   
  
"Are you sure about that?"  
  
"Oh, we are seriously not having this discussion right now," David trails off, turning on his heel to leave the room as he hurriedly stomps off towards the garden outside to escape Farouk's mind games for just a brief second, just to clear his head; but the man refuses to let up.  
  
"You're questioning it now," Farouk calls out to him," I could see it in your eyes. What's it like to try and think and make a decision only for yourself to tell you otherwise?"  
  
David immediately stills, eyes widening as consternation slips in through the cracks of his wrinkled brow, turning his head to find Farouk leaning against the frame of the doorway, "How did you-"   
  
Farouk taps his temple knowingly and laughs once again, but this time there isn't any mirth that can be found within the contents of his smile, nor the volume of his laughter; only an overlying bitterness that seeps into his words, "You thought it'd be much quieter inside that head of yours without me - but you were wrong. I kept them at bay,  _die Stimmen in deinem Kopf_  - the voices in your head; there may be a semblance of quiet in there as of right now, but I would like to think that the distortion had helped to keep things more simple for you, so that you wouldn't be confused," he then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And yes, maybe I was one of the many components that caused this illness of yours to begin with, but it was already there; I only did you a service by controlling it. Sure, I used them to my advantage every now and again when the time came for it, but in the end, the only voice that had mattered was my own, and now look at you - you think you're cured."  
  
David shudders violently, his face a deathly pale at the revelation; and yet, he refused to believe it, shaking his head in denial even though he knew in the back of his mind that what Farouk was saying was most likely true, that this was the answer to one of the many questions that have been plaguing him ever since he came back with even more voices ringing in his head than he cared to admit instead of the silence that he had been promised, "No, no - it's nothing like that, you're just trying to trick me again! I'm not sick, i'm cured, Ms. Bird - Melanie, she said-"  
  
"Then she was wrong." The answer is definite, and there was no way that he would be able to convince the parasite, whose mind has already been made up, otherwise, so David instead deigns to school his features and let the expression on his face do the talking for him before getting down on his haunches to pluck a flower from the row right in front of him, vibrant orange and red petals arranged sporadically within its plot.  
  
"Thirty years," David states rather hastily as he studies the flower, bringing them back to their original argument, "Thirty years wasted and gone because someone wanted revenge."  
  
"Avoiding the subject, are we?" Farouk points out, making his way over to where David knelt to effortlessly tower over the younger mutant as he continued to childishly twirl the flower's stem between his fingers, riddling the tips with specks of dirt.  
  
"You're damn right, because it's the only way i'll be able to tolerate your presence any longer than I have already," David seethes, glaring up at Farouk with threats of violence gleaming in the reflection of his pupils, "Didn't you think that it was petty to exact vengeance on a fucking baby of all things? I could've had a life, you know; I could have been normal, but no, you just had to ruin it before it even got started."  
  
The parasite understandably nods, inhaling the humid summer air as he takes a quick glance at his pocket watch and toys with the chain before his gaze rests back upon David like it always tends to do, "Thirty years of strife I have given you, and you have endured, and now look at you - you have a girlfriend who loves you as much as you do her, and you have friends. What you now have is a story you can tell to other people, which you wouldn't have if you didn't have me."  
  
"But I never asked for that," David murmurs softly, drawing his mouth into a misshapen line, "I love Syd, and I love the people that i've gotten to meet along the way, but I could have honestly been just fine living my life as normal as can be - and yet, that choice was taken from me."   
  
Farouk regards him then, tilting his head inquisitively, with his mouth open like he's about to say something but David beats him to the punch, standing up and flinging the once striking flower, now crushed and missing a few petals, onto the stone-laden path and consciously ignores the way it fixes itself back into its respective patch, "Let's just skip the pleasantries and get this over with."


End file.
